


Blinding Lights

by thatunwantedbard



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Discussion of Abortion, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Inspired by a The Weeknd Song, M/M, Mpreg, Panic Attacks, Rehabilitation, Singer Jaskier | Dandelion, The Author Regrets Nothing, Top Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24007204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatunwantedbard/pseuds/thatunwantedbard
Summary: Geralt's eyes were red and swollen from crying, which would probably prevent him from going to the photoshoot tomorrow. Perhaps the makeup artists could manage to fix this damage.Now nothing else mattered, not even the spotlights on him.Geralt fucked it up.He was pregnant.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 54





	Blinding Lights

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I want to thank coloursflyaway on Tumblr, who did a lovely job here and was sweetheart to me. I'm brazilian, my english is not so good, so I'm only publishing because I had your help! You're amazing!
> 
> I would also like to thank DonnJoker who helped me in the development and was super patient with me. Love you, dear.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys like it and have fun reading! :)

"Stupid kid! How did you let that happen? I really thought you were smarter and a little less of a bitch, that's why I had sex with you." Jaskier spits the words out towards the youngest, with an ironic and skewed smile on his thin lips, his blue eyes sparkling. He wanted to humiliate without mercy. "Do you really think you're going to come over here and tell me this shit, and that I'm going to agree? Don't be silly. I'm not going to put a fucking ring on your finger, if that's what you're waiting for. You know what? You disgust me, Geralt. "

Hearing that hurt like hell. Three days ago, that same person was wrapping his arms around him, whispering vows of love and all sorts of dirty things in his ear.

Well, it really hurt. He could feel his skin burning.

Mainly because he was in love.

The two now faced each other, both with lost, empty looks, looking for a way out, an answer.

Everything was fine while it was just them, with the glamor, ostentation, vanity and greed leaking from their pores, the money being spent like water, the raw, reckless sex, under the light of the flash and the music from the catwalks. The problem now was that it was no longer just the two. Oh, the inconsequence brought consequences and they came at their best.

Geralt, a young and free-spirited boy, rebellious, famous model and with his face printed in many of the men's fashion magazines that circulate around, already twenty-three years old, had shaking hands, his golden eyes filled with tears, ready to fall freely like the beginning of a long and furious rain, his face paling, while his whole body seeming to flinch, as if he would fall on that well polished floor at any moment, and his stomach turning around, wanting to expulse the breakfast he had eaten. Geralt was still, surprisingly, standing, with his head down as well as his shoulders, feeling his insides burn with regret and guilt.

I shouldn't have told him, I could have done it myself, Geralt knew that. It was just going to some clinic, with a false name and he would be done with this crap. However, a hint of hope had told him that maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

It had been a mistake.

Jaskier was explosive, destructive, a lover of frisson, one of the most well-known and well-paid singers, the one with Geralt had eventually had had sex without commitment for about a year, and he had been extremely irritated by the news, which had caused a lot of angry screams and caused much of the furniture to be broken. 

Geralt's eyes were red and swollen from crying, which would probably prevent him from going to the photoshoot tomorrow. Perhaps the makeup artists could manage to fix this damage.

Now nothing else mattered, not even the spotlights on him.

Geralt fucked it up.

He was pregnant.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Saturday.

Waking up had always been a curious thing for Jaskier, especially after fame arrived, since he never knew who would be by his side. And, of course, this morning would be no different. The first thing he saw when his eyes, still drowsy from sleep, was red, unruly hair that tickled him. He hurried to get up, not even worrying about the girl, probably an aspiring model, who was nestled into his chest, with a serene and satisfied expression. He cursed himself mentally and was soon trying to wake her up, nudging her shoulder without care. Minutes later, Anna – or Hannah? Lilian, maybe? – was already leaving, with her clothes in her hands and a frown on her face. Soon, the singer had a cigarette between his fingers, watching cars and pedestrians from the balcony, not caring that he was still in a hotel room and that there would certainly be some stupid paparazzi out there watching him through the lens of the camera.

It was then that his thoughts all turned to the one who he wanted to ignore. The fact was, after three weeks without any contact with him, Jaskier was starting to miss Geralt.

Jaskier was fully aware that, at some point between admiring Geralt in all his glory while he was separating cocaine and then snorting everything with his nose from that ebony table that had cost Jaskier twenty thousand pounds, and fucking him hard inside his Bentley, he had fallen in love. And maybe if he was a little honest with himself, he would dare say that he loved him.

However, this didn't mean that he wanted to have a child with Geralt or a relationship. Far from it. A baby was the last thing he wanted at the moment, it would only frustrate him – not only him, but Geralt too, for obvious reasons. He didn't even think about that idea and just considering it already left him stunned and irritated as hell. And as if that wasn't enough, Jaskier was no fucking example for anyone, last night he had won an awards show, with a song about a guy with a bag full of drugs.

He would never be a good father.

After finishing his cigarette, he decided to lie down again. Thinking about it had made him lose his hunger. However, Jaskier did not expect that someone would come and knock on the door. Exasperated, he walked over. The surprise had come when the door was opened.

Geralt. Of course.

Quietly, he stared at the young man. It was strange to see him like this, wearing jeans, sweatshirt and a pair of all stars. He had always opted for more sophisticated combinations. And his face was not in the best shape, he looked a little thinner than normal, slightly sick. He had an envelope in his hands and was holding it tightly, anxiously. Jaskier frowned at all that vulnerability coming from him.

"We need to talk. Can I come in?"

Jaskier let the younger man enter the room, still saying nothing, bowing with a mocking smile. "What do you want?" Jaskier asked, noticing that he couldn't start the conversation on his own. "Did the cat eat your tongue, sweetie?"

Geralt took a deep breath, and hesitantly handed the older man the envelope.

"What is this crap? Someone asked you-" Jaskier loses his voice. Open-mouthed, looking with disbelief at the words "positive" and "eight weeks".

He laughed.

Laughed.

And then started tearing up all those papers.

"Fuck, how dare you come here? Do you think that will change anything? You are so ridiculous!" He shouted, approaching the model who was about to cry, startled by the aggressive tone. "Geralt, why haven't you fixed it yet?"

"It is my decision." He replied shakily, his head bowed. He didn't dare look into those sharp blue eyes. "No matter what you say, I'll have it. It is my decision only." He was firm this time.

Silence.

"I suggest you get out of my sight now and don't look for me again or I swear to god, Geralt-"

"But I need you! It's your fault too." And without the strength to stop the crying, he let the tears fall freely. He felt so, so alone. He was terrified of the situation as much as the other. He didn't know exactly what he was going to do from here on, hell, he barely knew where his own family was. "He's ours, Jaskier."

"Yours, Geralt. I have absolutely nothing to do with this, please go away." Jaskier pointed toward the exit.

The boy did not move and then, losing patience for good, he pushed him to the door, forcing him to leave.

Jaskier stared at the door for a few seconds. And it was only after punching it hard and feeling the wood hurting his fingers, that he finally realized what he had just done. God, why did I do that? What am I becoming? He asked himself, frightened, remembering all the times his father did the same thing.

His eyes widened when he realized he had kicked Geralt out of his room. 

So he left, determined, and found Geralt still in the hall, sitting on the floor, panting like hell, thick tears wetting his pale face. Jaskier approached carefully, the guilt leaving him with a painful feeling in his chest when he saw him this way, suddenly looking so small, about to fall apart.

"Geralt." He sighed, sitting down next to him. "I'm sorry, I just... I definitely don't know how to deal with what's going on, I never imagined that, well, you know." He confessed, sincerely. "My head is a mess, shit, I don't know what to do, okay? I don't know. I'm scared as fuck."

He would give anything for a cigarette now.

Or maybe something stronger.

Geralt didn’t answer, he didn't even look in his direction. He continued crying, unable to control himself, letting out a few sobs. After all, was there anything else to do? Geralt could feel his breathing becoming heavier and heavier.

"Honey, shit, calm down. Take a deep breath, come on." Jaskier wrapped his arms around the boy, he needed to calm him down. He didn't want him to have one of his panic attacks in the middle of a corridor. "Please, let me help you."

"I hate you, I don't want your hands on me!" Geralt shouted, trying to get away. "Let go of me, Jaskier!"

"Geralt look at me,” the singer asked. The gold in his eyes was filled with hurt and something else that Jaskier could not identify. Maybe it was fear. "We will fix this. I have no idea how, but we will. Now, could you please let me take you back to the room? I want to talk. Please. No screaming this time, I'll behave myself. If you don't want to, you can leave, no problem."

"How am I supposed to know if I should trust you?"

"Well, you shouldn't."

  
  
  
  
  


Entering the room, the first thing Jaskier had done was to put the boy to bed, hurriedly left and returned with a glass of water, handing it over.

"What are we going to do?" Geralt did not dare look into the eyes of the man beside him, just lowered his head and stared at his trembling hands, now and then taking a deep breath, trying to regain his calm. "I'm just as scared as you are."

"Do you really want a baby?"

"More than anything."

Jaskier sighed, nodding, and then stood up, turning his back to Geralt, placing his hands in his short hair and pulling it tight. He was going to be a father. Too much information. "God, I need a smoke." He told himself, and then finally turned to the model. "Eight weeks, huh?" He smiled weakly, trying. "Are you okay? I mean, you lost a lot of weight. Did you eat anything before you came here?"

Geralt couldn't even reply.

"Look, I'm going to ask someone to bring you breakfast, right? Eat and get some rest. I'll make a new appointment for you, is that ok?"

"Oh. Okay, right. I-"

"I'm going to go outside and smoke. I won't be long, just get some rest, please."

  
  
  
  


Outside, the paparazzi was so fucking happy he didn't go to lunch. He took several pictures of Jaskier smoking, his expression serious, while making a phone call. About twenty minutes later, he took pictures of Jaskier sitting on the sidewalk, hands buried in his hair, crying silently, looking lost.

God, he was going to make so much money with these pictures.

  
  
  
  


Back in his room, Jaskier smiled fondly when he found Geralt eating some fruits as if they were the most delicious things in the world. "Hi."

"Oh, hi. Are you all right?" Geralt asked, his tone worried about seeing the man's red eyes.

Jaskier took a deep breath and then lay on the bed next to him. "Can we cuddle, please?"

Geralt put the tray on the table and went into the singer's arms, who kissed the boy's white hair before cuddling with him for long minutes.

"You know, I'm fucked." He said, finally. "I'm gonna need a few weeks in rehab before we start this, Geralt. And therapy, probably. Maybe some medication, I don't know how messed up my head is, but I want to get better. I don't want to be like my dad." Shit, he started crying again.

Geralt noticed and kissed his lips tenderly, trying to calm him down. "We can always talk about this later."

"If you can give me one more chance, Geralt, to put my shit together, I think we can make it work. Together. As partners. I don't want you to feel alone anymore."

Geralt started crying too.

"Oh sweetheart, I know. It's a lot to deal with, isn’t it? But we'll try, won't we? Sound like a plan to you? I've kind of made some calls already, so tomorrow we can start working on some things."

"Sounds good, it's very good, actually." The boy smiled, feeling the weight on his shoulders going away. He could finally breathe again. "Can we get some sleep now and have lunch at that place I like later?"

"We can do whatever you want." Jaskier replied, grabbing Geralt's soft body even closer to his. "I'll do my best for you two. We'll be fine."

**Author's Note:**

> So, what did you guys think? Does it deserve a sequence? Let me know in the comments!
> 
> You can also find me at:  
> Twitter: @unwantedbard  
> Tumblr: @thatunwantedbard
> 
> Come talk to me :)
> 
> I hope you're all well and safe at home ♥️


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